Though the march was stopped before Kfar Maimon, the blockade was lifted hours later. By the wee hours of the morning, the participants began to settle for the night in a potato field outside Kfar Maimon. Early in the morning, the people were woken by frantic calls on the megaphone. They awoke to see thousands of police and army beginning to surround the sleeping camp. Everyone rolled up their sleeping bags, packed up their pup tents and rushed across the road into the village of Kfar Maimon.
The thousands of soldiers and police then formed a circle around this quiet agricultural village and cordoned it off from the rest of the country. During the next two days the people sat together, studied together and prayed together, seemingly cut off from the rest of the world.
Meanwhile, across the country, when people heard about the police blockade, they simply got into their cars and made their way southward towards the city under siege. They drove through back roads and across fields. They walked tens of kilometers under a blazing hot sun. They encountered roadblocks where they were told that they could not go any further. Yet, they found a way to go further and most of them made it into Kfar Maimon.
The mood in the village itself was uplifting. As the level and degree of frantic fear grew in the government offices, the mood in the village was almost pastoral. Every house in the village had opened the doors to their house to let people come in and cool off. Each yard became the home to many families and young people with sleeping bags and tents. Under ever fig tree there were groups of people studying Torah, and on every grassy mound there was a family playing with their children. People were sharing food and stories.
It was a sweet, orange taste of the Messianic days yet to come.
It was also a time of jarring opposites.
At one point, on Wednesday, the police seemed to want to stir up trouble. It could be that Ariel Sharon's people wanted more violent pictures in the media instead of the pastoral scenes they were getting. The police decided to send their water cannon truck through the village from the eastern to the western gate, instead of going the long way around. The driver in the water cannon truck used his loudspeaker in ways that was clearly meant to goad people into violent action. It was not long before crowds of young people attempted to block the truck, and it was not long after that two army jeeps raced in to "save" the truck. A group of people was quickly organized by one of the rabbis and they formed two lines to escort the truck and jeeps "safely" out of the gate.
Yet, on the other hand, about an hour later ,another army truck entered the village. This time, it unloaded boxes of mineral water and bags of bread to give out to the demonstrators. The truck driver simply explained that according to the law, the army must provide bread and water to a city under blockade. Then, the driver smiled and said, "Labriyut." ("To your health.")
Another jarring set of images occurred as soldiers were beginning to put up barbed wire to surround the village. One elderly woman from inside the village yelled at the soldiers that the last time she had been surrounded by barbed wire was in Europe.
Many young people were calling out to the soldiers, "My brother, my sister, was this what you were trained to do?" At one point, I called out to a group of young soldiers, "At least shed a tear as you do what you are commanded to do." One female soldier said to me, "I haven?t stopped crying since this morning."
Yet ,only twenty feet away, there were several breaks in the fence. In these breaks, I saw young people sitting with young soldiers and simply talking. Elsewhere, there was a group of kids dressed in orange and kids dressed in Israeli army green singing together and playing guitar.
During the day, many policemen would not look our way; yet, as the day wore on, they joined us for the Minchah prayers.
Rabbi Shmuel Eliyahu walked along the fence blessing the soldiers and reminding them that we are all part of the same people, the same soul, the soul of an Eternal people.
A day filled with opposites.
On one side of the fence, one could sense fear and aggression; and on the other side, faith and determination.
On one side of the fence, one of the leading police officers is picked up on channel 10's cameras demanding arrests and that violence should be meted out to the demonstrators. Commander Niso Shacham went on to elaborate, "I want you to use sticks on the lower parts of their bodies.... Let them burn."
On the other side of the fence, the rabbis explained again and again that the security forces were our children, our brothers and sisters. The 50,000 residents of the newly formed Orange Camp were reminded that, though we were going to try to march forward towards Gush Katif, we would not, under any circumstances, resort to violence.
Then came the evening of the third day. Everyone was told to pack up their belongings and that we were going to begin the march to Gush Katif. The press were running feverishly to find the best place to film what one of them called the upcoming "dog fight".
Fifty thousand people began a slow march towards the western gate. At the head of the march were the rabbis and leaders, followed by the yeshiva students, then the men, followed by the women, and finally, by the families.
Looking back at the seemingly endless line, it resembled what I imagine the exodus from Egypt may have looked like.
As we arrived at the gate, everyone sat and waited. How do we go forward and avoid the violence we so wanted to avoid? After a long and tense period, it was decided by the leadership that we would not violently challenge the army and the police. We would not give Sharon and the media the pictures they so desperately wanted.
To the great disappointment of some in our camp, a decision was made that the greatest good would be achieved by a peaceful march around the perimeter of the village. As the people walked around the fence, the young people sang out affection and love to the soldiers on the perimeter. Instead of fists and altercation, the soldiers were met with affection and blessings. As one commander told us later, that experience melted their hearts.
Faith, determination and restraint proved more powerful than the fear that has gripped our leaders.
Will the message move the hearts of our leaders? Probably not. Yet, this message was really directed Heavenward. It was mainly meant for us, in order to rediscover the power that rests in our hearts. It is that faith that has been discovered, revealed and unfurled by a beleaguered and determined people.
[Part 2 of 2]
The thousands of soldiers and police then formed a circle around this quiet agricultural village and cordoned it off from the rest of the country. During the next two days the people sat together, studied together and prayed together, seemingly cut off from the rest of the world.
Meanwhile, across the country, when people heard about the police blockade, they simply got into their cars and made their way southward towards the city under siege. They drove through back roads and across fields. They walked tens of kilometers under a blazing hot sun. They encountered roadblocks where they were told that they could not go any further. Yet, they found a way to go further and most of them made it into Kfar Maimon.
The mood in the village itself was uplifting. As the level and degree of frantic fear grew in the government offices, the mood in the village was almost pastoral. Every house in the village had opened the doors to their house to let people come in and cool off. Each yard became the home to many families and young people with sleeping bags and tents. Under ever fig tree there were groups of people studying Torah, and on every grassy mound there was a family playing with their children. People were sharing food and stories.
It was a sweet, orange taste of the Messianic days yet to come.
It was also a time of jarring opposites.
At one point, on Wednesday, the police seemed to want to stir up trouble. It could be that Ariel Sharon's people wanted more violent pictures in the media instead of the pastoral scenes they were getting. The police decided to send their water cannon truck through the village from the eastern to the western gate, instead of going the long way around. The driver in the water cannon truck used his loudspeaker in ways that was clearly meant to goad people into violent action. It was not long before crowds of young people attempted to block the truck, and it was not long after that two army jeeps raced in to "save" the truck. A group of people was quickly organized by one of the rabbis and they formed two lines to escort the truck and jeeps "safely" out of the gate.
Yet, on the other hand, about an hour later ,another army truck entered the village. This time, it unloaded boxes of mineral water and bags of bread to give out to the demonstrators. The truck driver simply explained that according to the law, the army must provide bread and water to a city under blockade. Then, the driver smiled and said, "Labriyut." ("To your health.")
Another jarring set of images occurred as soldiers were beginning to put up barbed wire to surround the village. One elderly woman from inside the village yelled at the soldiers that the last time she had been surrounded by barbed wire was in Europe.
Many young people were calling out to the soldiers, "My brother, my sister, was this what you were trained to do?" At one point, I called out to a group of young soldiers, "At least shed a tear as you do what you are commanded to do." One female soldier said to me, "I haven?t stopped crying since this morning."
Yet ,only twenty feet away, there were several breaks in the fence. In these breaks, I saw young people sitting with young soldiers and simply talking. Elsewhere, there was a group of kids dressed in orange and kids dressed in Israeli army green singing together and playing guitar.
During the day, many policemen would not look our way; yet, as the day wore on, they joined us for the Minchah prayers.
Rabbi Shmuel Eliyahu walked along the fence blessing the soldiers and reminding them that we are all part of the same people, the same soul, the soul of an Eternal people.
A day filled with opposites.
On one side of the fence, one could sense fear and aggression; and on the other side, faith and determination.
On one side of the fence, one of the leading police officers is picked up on channel 10's cameras demanding arrests and that violence should be meted out to the demonstrators. Commander Niso Shacham went on to elaborate, "I want you to use sticks on the lower parts of their bodies.... Let them burn."
On the other side of the fence, the rabbis explained again and again that the security forces were our children, our brothers and sisters. The 50,000 residents of the newly formed Orange Camp were reminded that, though we were going to try to march forward towards Gush Katif, we would not, under any circumstances, resort to violence.
Then came the evening of the third day. Everyone was told to pack up their belongings and that we were going to begin the march to Gush Katif. The press were running feverishly to find the best place to film what one of them called the upcoming "dog fight".
Fifty thousand people began a slow march towards the western gate. At the head of the march were the rabbis and leaders, followed by the yeshiva students, then the men, followed by the women, and finally, by the families.
Looking back at the seemingly endless line, it resembled what I imagine the exodus from Egypt may have looked like.
As we arrived at the gate, everyone sat and waited. How do we go forward and avoid the violence we so wanted to avoid? After a long and tense period, it was decided by the leadership that we would not violently challenge the army and the police. We would not give Sharon and the media the pictures they so desperately wanted.
To the great disappointment of some in our camp, a decision was made that the greatest good would be achieved by a peaceful march around the perimeter of the village. As the people walked around the fence, the young people sang out affection and love to the soldiers on the perimeter. Instead of fists and altercation, the soldiers were met with affection and blessings. As one commander told us later, that experience melted their hearts.
Faith, determination and restraint proved more powerful than the fear that has gripped our leaders.
Will the message move the hearts of our leaders? Probably not. Yet, this message was really directed Heavenward. It was mainly meant for us, in order to rediscover the power that rests in our hearts. It is that faith that has been discovered, revealed and unfurled by a beleaguered and determined people.
[Part 2 of 2]